


Your Average, Everyday Mysophobic Murderer

by casanovica



Category: JackSepticEye (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Gen, Mental Instability, Murder, Mysophobia, Other, all the bad things tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 16:54:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5213579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casanovica/pseuds/casanovica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack feels unclean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Average, Everyday Mysophobic Murderer

**Author's Note:**

> This is a minific with my head canon antisepticeye.
> 
> I took the ‘antiseptic’ title quite clearly when creating him, and he’s basically a germaphobe who kills people that he finds ‘dirty’.
> 
> This fic is pretty dark, so be sure to read the warnings because it's not for everyone.

_Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Fuck._

_Its under your skin now. Can you feel it?_

_Yes. Yes I fucking can._

Jack scrubbed the blood from the palm of his hand. He scratched the surface countless times, but no matter the force, he could still detect a trace of red. A tiny speck. A little devil that ran as soon as Jack could get his disinfectant close enough to kill. There were germs in that speck of blood. There was _dirt_ in that speck of blood. He scrubbed harder, clawing at his skin with his fingernails.

_It’s almost gone. So close._

Then red. In attempt to rid himself of the stranger’s blood, Jack severed the thin fabric separating his veins and vessels from the outside world. The sparkling crimson liquid creeped its way down Jack’s sink, and fell down the drain into the sewers below.

_Look what you’ve done._

The speck of blood was inside him now. Mingling with his cells and transfixing his antibodies. Infecting him with whatever disgusting diseases the stranger had lurking inside his arteries. Jack could feel it. His hand stood shaking in front of him, but he could barely make it out. Images ticked by to the hands of the clock. The man, stood under a silent streetlight in a dark alley. The woman, 5 shots deep stumbling with determination into the unknown. Jack had just been passing by, when he heard a shriek. A yowl, a call for help. That’s when he saw it. Like a venus fly trap, the strange man attempted to swallow her up, take her blissful innocence and spit out a broken human. 

Jack did the only thing he could do, executed the only possible solution. He snuck up behind him and tied his neck with a garrote. The stranger was too invested in his act of carnage to notice Jack lurking behind him. Unfortunately, Jack underestimated his size and power. They danced under the streetlight, each attempting to gain control, to lead. He held the wire tight as the man fought for life. Eventually, the last breath fell from his lips and he went limp. A sigh of relief graced Jack’s lungs. Less dirt for the world to deal with. Pocketing the used garrote, Jack noticed blood on this wire.

_Shit. It must have cut into him._

Looking down at corpse confirmed his suspicion, blood leaked out of a small incision by his trachea. During the struggle the wire nicked him. He would need to sterilize his weapon before the blood could seep into the metal and twist it with its wicked ways. The woman beside him sat open mouthed and shocked at the scene that look place before her. The mascara stained tears carved trenches into her face. Jack took the dainty panties between his thumb and index finger carefully, handing them to her. “I’m going to call you a cab. You never saw this.” He watcher her nod tentatively, and walked backwards, returning to the shadows of the night.

_But now his blood in inside you. The darkness, the dirt. What will you become?_

He had been so careful. He always was. But when he finally returned home he noticed it. The tiny dot of the stranger’s blood in the crevice of his palm. His body immediately cried to get it _away_. The toxicity contained inside that blood could cause catastrophic damage. Jack can’t fix this now. It’s done.

His head fell into the toilet bowl as he expelled the contents of his stomach. He could smell the bleach he scrubbed into the porcelain that very morning. What would it think of him now? The exquisite chemical that cast bacteria and pathogens into hell. Would his bottle of clorox look on him in shame? In disappointment? 

Could his cleaning agents, his disinfecting wipes, his sanitizers find it in their hearts to forgive his folly? He spit a piece of half digested tomato into the discouraged bowl, feeling the stomach acids from his vomit eating away at the tartar of his teeth. No. How could they? Now, he was surely _septic_.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for writing this.


End file.
